Time In A Bottle
by KeatsLove
Summary: After Will leaves to captain the Flying Dutchman, Calypso grants Elizabeth a favour.  They can communicate via messages in a bottle every 3 months for as long as Elizabeth remains true.  Based on a suggestion by Lauraart123.
1. Prologue

TIME IN A BOTTLE

Prologue – Ten Years Is An Awful Long Time

"Honestly, who comes up with such silly rules," I complain as we step onto the little island that will serve as our home for the day. "If you do your job well ferrying about the dead, shouldn't you get time off for good behavior? Ten years in an awful long time, Will."

"It's a price I shall pay if it means returning to you, Elizabeth," he says, sticking his sword into the sand next to mine. "We won't be needing these for a time." Will looks up, brushing the hair from his eyes, and gives me a smile that reminds me so much of the half-drowned boy he once was that my knees go weak with longing for the past. It just is not fair. After all we've been through, now that we've finally got our bit of happiness, how can fate separate us?

"Life is not fair," I mutter under my breath. "This last year has amply proven so."

"Are you well, Elizabeth?" Will asks, stepping forward to take both my hands in his.

"It is unfair," I say, ducking my head lower in an attempt to hide my tears. "How can it be that things are finally where they are meant to be yet I am losing you after today?"

"You shall never loose me," Will promises, resting his forehead against mine. "Fate is just delaying our happiness for a time, that is all."

"'For a time'?" I repeat. "For a time? Will, ten years is not a trifling bit of time!"

"I am sorry," he sighs. "I only meant to look on the bright side."

"There is no bright side," I say. "I can't clearly remember a time when I've been without you. You fill my memories, Will. I don't know how to get on without you."

"You shall learn," Will says. "Believe me, Elizabeth, the thought of parting from you sits uneasy in my being as well, but if this is what we must endure, so be it."

"We shouldn't waste time," I say, taking a step back. "We have so little as it is."

Will nods agreement. "Best to make the most of what remains."

---------------------------

I am alone.

Even now, it seems like too cruel a trick for fate to play. I expect to see the flash of green, witness the _Dutchman_ rise again, and have someone tell me all is well. We love and – because we love – the curse is broken before it begins. That is what I hope for yet, after what seems like endless hours of hoping, I have only the sand and water swirling around me and Will's heart in a box to show for it. A strange thing indeed, but I gave my word to keep it safe and that I shall. I lay my hand against the Dead Man's Chest, comforted by the steady thump-thump I hear inside. The temptation is too great, and I lay my head against it, closing my eyes and imagining it is Will's chest my cheek is pillowed against instead of damp wood.

"Can yah be true?"

I sit up with a jolt, clutching the Dead Man's Chest against me. "This is mine and no one else's!"

"Can yah be true, Elizabeth Turner?" the voice repeats as a water spout appears, swirling into the shape of a woman.

"Tia Dalma?"

"Dat is jus da shell yah knew meh as," she says. "Ah am Calypso, Goddess of dah sea. Can yah be true, Elizabeth Turner?" she asks again.

"To Will?" I ask. "He has always had my heart as I his. There has never been anyone for me but him."

"If yah can remain true to your boy wit his touch o destiny, ah shall grant yah a favor."

"What sort of favor?"

"Dah sort yah shall like," she promises, crouching down beside me and swirling her hand in the water. The water turns a strange shade of green and, when she lifts her hand, an empty bottle is balanced on her open palm. "Communication wit yah sweet William."

I take the bottle, cradling it against my chest. "How does it work?"

"For tree months yah fill da bottle wit letters. Any'ting yah heart desires. At dah end o dah tree months, place da bottle inta the sea an' say 'Calypso, deliver mah letters.'" She grins at me. "An' so ah shall."

"And Will?" I ask.

"Dah same. Tree months ta respond – ta fill da bottle -- den ah deliver dem tah yah."

"And we will be able to communicate in this fashion for as long as I remain faithful?"

She nods. "As long as yah are true."

"Do you expect anything in return?"

Tia Dalma – no, Calypso – shakes her head. "Dare may come ah time, ah will require yah ta return da favor. Till den, be true an' love one anutter."

"Yes. Yes, we shall."

The words have barely left my mouth before her body dissolves and returns to the sea. I watch the horizon for a time, wondering what to do next. I have been given this gift, this precious gift, to help me through the lonely months ahead.

"Thank you, Calypso," I whisper, standing and going to retrieve my sword. There really is only one thing to do.

Return home to Port Royal.


	2. Year 1: Months 0 to 3

YEAR 1: Months 0-3

Two years gone and a lifetime of adventures later, I am finally home. I arrange the Dead Man's Chest firmer under my arm, whispering "We are home, Will" as I watch the dust swirl on the familiar roads and the people bustle past to market. They probably didn't recognize me as the "Miss Swann" they once knew – the Governor's Daughter in her fancy clothes and curls – who now quite possibly looked like a ship wreck victim with tangled hair and sun burnt face. It seems a lifetime ago. Has it really only been two years?

My feet remember the way home.

Someone has taken the time to shut up the windows and bar the door of the Mansion after Papa's "return to England." I set Calypso's bottle and the Dead Man's Chest carefully on the ground before prying away the wood beam nailed across the door. Inside, sheets cover the furniture as if we have only gone away for holiday. I disregard every room – only caring for one. _My room_. The banister is thick with dust as I skim my hand along it, climbing the stairs toward the only familiar thing I want to see at present, hugging my treasures against my chest with my other arm. I push my door open slowly, the hinges creaking from disuse, peering in around the corner as if expecting an ambush. The same white sheets and dust covering all greet me. I place Calypso's bottle on my writing desk before laying down atop the dust cover on my bed.

"I'm home," I whisper again, holding the Dead Man's Chest close as I cannot hold the owner of the heart inside.

-----

_My dearest Will,_

_Has it truly been a month since we last spoke? Touched? Kissed? How I long to return to our perfect day on the beach. If I could keep one memory stopped up with these letters in the bottle, I would chose that day since – for a time – it was easy to forget the cares and consequences of the world. We could just be as we were always meant to be – loved truly and sincerely by the other. Imagine me sighing, dearest, for I miss you so. Calypso has given us a treasure, though, in the form of this message bottle and I shall attempt to content myself in the fact that I shall have letters written in your own, sweet hand to read and re-read throughout the lonely hours, days, months and years. How shall I ever get on without you, Will? I have tried to occupy my mind and body this week by throwing myself into busy work around the mansion. It is quite a bit of work for one person, but I relish it since I can forget (even if only for a time). Still, when the work is done and I am once again in my bed, my thoughts turn to you. Do not think me terribly morbid for keeping the Dead Man's Chest next to me at night. It comforts me. _

_You shall never guess what else I have done! I have rescued the little engagement ring you gave me from its hidden box under the loose board of my Window Seat. I stashed it there for safe keeping before I ran off in search of you after our first disastrous attempt at a wedding ceremony. Thankfully, when the mansion was shut up in my absence, no one moved a thing, so it and my other belongings are safe. Not that I care a thing for all the brocade dresses and ribbons hanging forgotten in my wardrobe, but your ring is a different matter. I would have gone quite mad with grief if that was taken from me. _

_Do jam this bottle to the rim, Will, when it is your turn to write. I shall do the same._

_Yours ever – Elizabeth_

_-------_

I rather enjoy being alone for there is no one to tell me what to do, but my housekeeping skills are rudimentary at best. I was raised to run a household by ordering servants about – not attempt the cooking, cleaning, and washing single handedly. My thoughts turn to Celeste, my former lady's maid. I wonder if she's still about? Though I did not always treat her with the common respect people deserve, she had been with me since I was fourteen and Papa declared me too old for a governess. I was a young lady and deserved a lady's maid. Certainly if she's still about, her loyalties should lie with me instead of whichever new household employed her. There is only one way to know for certain.

Seek her out.

--------

The little cottage Mistress Chambers directs me to is so dilapidated, I wonder if she heard me correct when I asked for the Dameger Residence. I recall Celeste saying she visited her mother and siblings on her day off. How could they all possibly live here? It's so tiny. I knock gingerly, still wondering if I am at the right location.

"May I help you, Miss?" Celeste asks, squinting as the sunlight hits her dimness accustomed eyes.

"Don't you know me, Celeste?" I ask.

She squints all the harder. "Miss. . .Miss Elizabeth?"

"The very same," I joke, ruffling a hand through my hair. "Mrs. Turner now, though. What sort of gossip has been circulating about?"

Celeste steps outside, closing the door behind her, possibly so I would not get a clearer view of the tiny two room cottage her family calls home. "Have you only recently returned from your. . .travels?"

"A month," I say. "I've come to ask a favor, Celeste. Return to my employ at the mansion. Bring your whole family if you wish. I'm sure we can use the extra hands. Father left me everything. I can pay you quite handsomely and give your family a decent roof over your head besides."

"Where is Master Turner?" she asks which is quite a logical question considering.

"That, Celeste, is a very long story."

---------

_My dearest Will,_

_You shall think me a very silly goose indeed for what I am about to write. I had to ask Celeste what it means when a woman misses her monthly courses! Being only twelve when Mama died, she never thought to explain that bit of womanly knowledge to me, and Papa didn't see fit to provide me with a book detailing certain facts of life. Celeste says it means we are to have a little baby. I said I shall have a boy to call William. She says it does not work quite so – that we take what we get. Maybe so, but I still wish for a son. How marvelous to have this living tie to bind us even closer. A baby. Our baby._

_My three months time for letters is up. Now it falls to you, Will. Once I close this, I shall take it to the beach that we played on as children and say 'Calypso, deliver my letters.' I pray you find comfort in my words. I miss you so._

_Yours ever – Elizabeth_

_-----_


	3. Year 1: Months 4 to 6

YEAR 1: Months 4-6

_My own sweet Elizabeth,_

_If only you knew how often I whispered those words aloud at night when we were young and thoughts of you kept me awake. Or scratched it into the dirt floor of the Shop only to erase it at the slightest sound thinking you had come and would laugh at my foolishness. Fear of your laughter always kept my declarations at bay. If only I had known you felt the same, I would have spoken so much sooner. If only, if only, if only. No use dwelling on such things now. They are in the past and we must get through the present and future._

_Do not think I blame you for delaying our happiness, dear one. I am just as much at fault since I never spoke. Because of that very same silence and fear, I broke the friendship. I couldn't go on just as a friend when I wanted all of you – body and soul. I should have told you then – the little bit I'd been practicing – since it worked quite well when I __did__ finally speak the words: "I should have told you every second since the moment we met. . .I love you." Twas the truth then and is still the truth now. I hold to that when the hours get long and lonely without you. Like you, I cannot think on how to get on without you. Being beside you is like breathing to me – wholly natural and needed. We face a very daunting trial with this ten years separation before us, but we will persevere since we must. There is no other choice for me but future happiness with you. As my silence delayed it in the past, so this duty shall delay it in the present. At least there is an end in sight – how ever far it may seem – and, as you say, Calypso has given us such a boon in this letter bottle. _

_I have decided to read only one of your letters a day so as not to be greedy and gobble them all up in one sitting. I pray you are well and do not mope so on my account. I could not bear it._

_Your own always and forever -Will_

_-------------------_

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_I am glad you decided to seek out Celeste to help around the Mansion. I always thought her a good, solid, dependable girl who did not deserve half the grief you put her through when we were younger. I suppose you were lucky your father gave you such sums in pocket money since we ran into more than one occasion where Celeste's silence needed to be bought. I pray you get along well and find comfort in her company. How very interesting as well that you've decided to bring her entire family aboard. I remember hearing tales around town that Mistress Dameger is very gifted with growing herbs and mixing potions and medicines. Those who could not afford the town physician, would seek her out. _

_I suppose I should tell you how I pass my days without you. It is quite remarkably easy to captain a crew such as mine. They are hard workers to the very last man and our purpose here is rewarding. I try to think of my time here as a duty instead of a curse. I believe Davy Jones viewed his duty as a curse and that became his downfall. I shall not follow the same path. You may be surprised to hear that I look for Norrington in order to help him cross. No matter my personal opinion of the man, he died bravely and saved you all at once so I owe him a smooth crossing. To date, I have not found his lost soul, though I hope to report better news in a future letter. _

_It is also a comfort to have my father on crew – though I do feel a little out of place ordering "Mr Turner" about. We share memories of my mother and he never fails to listen when I wish to speak on you. How he manages to sit through my lovestruck ramblings and lamentations with a smile in place I shall never know, but I am grateful none-the-less. _

_As I ready to close this letter, dear one, I realize that there is barely any love talk amongst the pages. How very neglectful of me. I shall make up for the serious lapse now by writing in a post script "I love you" as many times as the blank part of the page allows._

_Your own -Will_

_----------------------_

_Dear one,_

_As the months pass, it gets harder to fit my scratchings into Calypso's bottle but you asked for me to "jam it to the rim" with letters so you shall not be disappointed. I have also kept to my earlier resolve to only read one letter a day. Though we do not have the sunrises and sunsets to mark the days as you do, I see from my cyphering that it's been neigh six months since we parted. Six months! Can it be so?_

_Later -_

_Forgive me, dear heart, for leaving a letter unfinished but I noticed I had just one last letter of yours to read and it appeared short so I gave in to temptation and. . .A BABY! I have been shouting the news above deck for neigh a quarter hour much to the congratulation of the crew on duty and the consternation of the ones attempting to rest below decks. A BABY! OUR BABY! I shall spare you my initial missive on the subject for I laid aside this page and started afresh with happy thoughts that soon turned dark when I realized I could not be by your side through your confinement nor look upon the face of our baby once he or she was born. You shall be alone and I can do nothing for it. You spoke of wanting to name the babe William if it is a boy. I suggest naming it Elizabeth if it is a girl. We can call her Betsy or Lizzy for short as I am Will instead of William. _

_As I think on it, perhaps I shall include my first response to your news behind this letter since we are married and I swore to myself never to keep my thoughts from you again. You should always know what I am thinking – good or bad. _

_Do know that behind the sadness of not being able to share this time with you, I am happy – truly happy – that we shall have a little baby. When next I receive your letters, we shall be mother and father. I can scarce contain my happiness._

_Your own - Will_


	4. Year 1: Months 7 to 9

YEAR 1: MONTHS 7-9

"The belly. Get the belly," I instruct Celeste's younger sister Amelie who is sketching my portrait to include in the letter bottle to Will. "Goodness, how much more growing can little William be capable of? He must be quite enormous already if my belly is any judge to his size."

"You _have_ been taking the adage 'eating for two' to heart, miss," Celeste points out as she takes the wash down from the line we've strung up in the garden.

I give her a glare worthy of my teenage self. "That will be all, Celeste."

"Shall I draw a memory sketch of Master Will for your wall, Miss Elizabeth?" Amelie asks, happy to use the new sketch pad and drawing pencils I found for her.

"Memory sketch?" I ask. "What memories do you have of Will, Amelie?"

"Heavens, Miss, it was nigh impossible _not_ to notice Will Turner!" She giggles. "Half the girls in town were wild for him, but most knew it was just as impossible to get a second glance unless their names were 'Elizabeth Swann.' Anyone with eyes in their head knew he was quite taken with you, Miss."

"Everyone but me," I say, rubbing my hands over my belly as little William gives a great kick. "Deep down, I suppose I knew as well, though didn't wish to acknowledge it for fear of what it would mean for our friendship. Do you find that silly, Amelie?"

"No, Miss," she says, shaking her head as her hand begins to fly across the page creating the memory sketch.

"Are you only saying that to agree with me or do you truly believe it so?"

Amelie's hand stills as she looks up. "I understand change can be frightening, Miss. When Celeste first left to serve as your lady's maid, I cried buckets for weeks because I didn't know when next I'd see her. The money she brought in was quite exciting, but it still changed everything that was familiar to me by her being away for such long stretches of time. I suppose, in your case, Miss, you just had to get accustomed to the idea of viewing Will Turner as a suitor instead of a playmate."

"How very perceptive of you, Amelie," I say, rubbing my belly once more.

"Is this a fair likeness, Miss?" she asks, showing me the sketch of Will.

My eyes prick with tears as I gaze at the wonder that has sprung from her drawing pencil. "Yes, Amelie, that is a very fair likeness."

-------

_My dearest Will,_

_You shall think me very clever for writing on the back of the drawing Amelie made for you. Though, now that I consider it further, I suppose it is not so very clever a scheme. True, I can fit more letters into Calypso's bottle this way, but if you wish to re-read these words, you shall have to take down the picture from where-so-ever you wish to hang it. She drew it only this morning. William (or 'Elizabeth' Celeste reminds me though I take no mind!) seems quite content to punch and kick me till I wonder if my insides are black-and-blue. Goodness, the child can throw a punch! I am content, to a degree, though I only wish you were here with us, Will. Then life would be perfect. I keep myself busy during the day so melancholy thoughts don't intrude, but at night-- at night! -- all the fears and pain and loneliness overwhelm me and I am obliged to shed tears. Night seems the worst time to be without you, Will. I am tired of being brave, dearest, when I miss you so. __Forgive the melancholy turn this letter has taken.Celeste says all women become weepy when the time of their confinement nears. William has just given a great kick as if to say 'I am here, Mummy. ' Forgive the water splotches on the page as well. . .They are only my tears._

_Yours always, Elizabeth_

_-----_

_My dearest Will,_

_I am in brighter spirits this morning and shan't mope about like in the last letter. Part of me wishes to tear it up but I wrote it on the back of Amelie's beautiful drawing and can't bear to spoil that. She is a much better artist than I ever was – even after all the private drawing lessons Papa paid for over the years. I can barely manage a landscape, yet she draws people from memory with such natural talent you would think they sat for portraits. My disused art supplies have found a good home with her. Just yesterday, Amelie drew a grand sketch of you to hang in my room. Do not think me terribly silly for placing it next to the Dead Man's Chest at night so I can lay in bed and look at your face and listen to the comforting thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat till my candle burns out. By then, I have fallen asleep and my mind can take me to you. I used to wish never to wake up but have placed morbid thoughts like those from my mind. I am strong and determined to see this duty through for all our sakes. I believe I shall be in even sunnier spirits once William is born. Having a baby to spoil will do me no end of good, I believe._

_Love me always, my sweet Will, as I do you._

_Your – Elizabeth_

_------_

_To "Papa" William Turner II_

_From "Mama" Elizabeth Turner and William Turner III_

_Your son has arrived with all the squalling of a hurricane. How a baby can cry so only a few short seconds after birth, I do not know, but Celeste says such strong lungs is a good sign. It means he is healthy and strong. He is sleeping now, having obviously worn himself out with all the squalling, and I am glad for the momentary silence. Little William has quite a thatch of dark hair and, though his eyes are a bluish-gray at present, all agree they will likely darken as well. Bringing him into this world is not an experience I relish to repeat, but I shall manage. Mistress Dameger has quite the lovely mixture of herbs that dulls nearly all the pain. She praised me to no end during William's birthing so I actually feel quite accomplished at present. It is not every day you bring new life into the world. _

_A deliciously wicked thought strikes me as I re-read the line "Bringing him into this world is not an experience I relish to repeat, but I shall manage" since I know the second we are reunited I shall wish to make another baby. Perhaps a girl next time. There is more I wish to write on the subject but cannot since Amelie is reading over my shoulder and I do not wish to fill her mind with images that Celeste or Mistress Dameger would disapprove of a young girl knowing. She has just finished a portrait of William to include in Calypso's Letter Bottle and is upset I won't go into detail about baby-making. C'est la vie._

_It also strikes me that, when next I receive your letters, an entire year will have passed. Can it be so? I pray the rest of the time flies as quickly as this first year apart!_

_Yours always – Elizabeth (and now William)_


	5. Year 1: Months 10 to 12

YEAR 1: MONTHS 10 – 12

_To: "Mama" Elizabeth Turner and William Turner III_

_From: "Papa" William Turner II_

_My dear little family,_

_Forgive me, Elizabeth, for answering your letters out of order but I knew there must be word of William's birth inside Calypso's Bottle so I dug through till I found it. How anxious I have been ticking off the time these last months and knowing your confinement was near! My father tried to assure me that you are young and strong and no harm shall befall you during the birthing, but I remember my mother saying just as clearly on several occasions that death does not only come for the old. My eyes greedily devoured the news, writ in your own sweet hand, of William's entrance into this world and I am infinitely grateful that both mother and babe are well. Please have Amelie draw a million pictures of our sweet William and speak to him often of me._

_Your own – Will_

_-----_

_My dearest Elizabeth,_

_I have hit on an idea and I hope you think it smart as well. I am going to include letters to William in the Letter Bottle. I know a babe of one-month cannot truly understand the sentiments behind my words, but I wish for you to keep them safe and read them to him nightly and allow him to read them when he is older. Being apart is perhaps the hardest thing I have ever endured and I do not wish William to believe a day goes by without thoughts of you both occupying my mind. I once believed my father loved the sea more than his family. It was a fleeting thought – brought on by months of endless waiting at the docks – but I do not want even the barest glimmer of such a thought to ever cross our William's mind. I do not love the sea more than you. I am only fulfilling my duty so we can be reunited. Whisper this promise in his ear while he is asleep. My mother always said that babies hear best while sleeping._

_Yours always – Will_

_----_

_My dearest Elizabeth,_

_I agree (and am quite happy for the fact) that time seems to be moving quickly. It seems like just a brief moment ago we were forced to say our good-byes and now nigh a year has passed. Can it be so? My days are filled with the weighty responsibilities of captain, and my nights are filled with thoughts of you. My father says I am quite a natural at captaining which strikes me as odd considering I was never very good at ordering anyone about in the past. Most of my attempts such as "Go home, Elizabeth" or "I do not wish to play pirates" were met with laughter and "Don't be such a silly goose, Will" on your part. Perhaps my father has just never seen me deal with your strong-will because, if he did, he would never call me a natural at anything! _

_You are perhaps laughing now, or at the very least smiling, at memories of your treatment of me in our younger days. It was all a game to you, I believe. You always knew I could never withstand any request that fell prettily from your lips. If only you knew how often I longed to kiss those very same lips or twine my hands in your hair that you so carelessly pulled back in a plait, you would never doubt your power over me. I am helpless in that regard and always shall be. _

_Enough of such drabble..._

_Your – Will_

_-----_

_My dear little family,_

_One last letter to put in the bottle before my time is through. Tell me straight away all the news you have been storing up these last months, Elizabeth – even the tiniest detail is like mana from heaven to me. It is all I need to survive._

_Be a good babe, William, and do not cause your Mama (much) trouble. You are the man of the house till my return. Tis a weighty responsibility for one so young, but you shall grow into it. _

_How I wish I could give you both my love in person instead of through this letter. It is a poor substitute, I know, but all we have at present. _

_Please believe me --_

_Your loving Papa and Husband - Will_


	6. Year 2: Months 1 to 3

YEAR 2: MONTHS 1-3

"And this is where your Mama and Papa used to play," I inform William, setting his basket down in the sand of the familiar beach that Will and I so oft played at as children. "One of many places, actually. I shall show you the forest tomorrow, little one." William coos, holding out his chubby arms and I gather him up against me. "I dare say you shan't remember any of this when you're older, little one, but I shall give you tours and tell tales of your father till you will feel as if he is only gone away for a little while instead of separated from us for years." I touch the simple ring on my finger. "One year gone, nine more to endure." I sense a dark mood descending but – since William's birth – I am much better at putting them from my mind instead of wallowing in loneliness. I shake this one away as well. "Over there is where your Papa and I trounced each other with wooden swords," I say, bouncing William on my lap and pointing to a spot near the jetty. "I believe he let me win though he's too much of a gentleman to admit so. We used to play 'King of the Castle' on those rocks. Again, he allowed me to win. How very dull it must have been to lose at all our games on purpose. Your papa never complained, though. Not once." I smooth William's downy hair – so like Will's it brings tears to my eyes. "Your papa is a good man, William. The best I know."

------

_My dearest Will,_

_How the time passes! I wish I could say 'quickly' but nights are terribly long and lonely without you, dearest. My days are occupied with caring for William. He is such a sweet tempered babe. I was worried he would develop the colic and never give me a moment's rest but Providence took pity on me. He (and my new-mother nerves) are well. I am including the latest sketch from Amelie. It is a family portrait for your growing collection. That child is a wonder with sketching. I have offered to pay for private drawing lessons and, though Celeste and Mistress Dameger were grateful, they did not want to accept my "charity." It will be a great challenge to change their minds but I always did enjoy a challenge. I pray you are well, Will, and don't miss us too terribly. I am surviving. It is all I can do._

_Yours always, -Elizabeth_

_-----_

_Dearest Will,_

_How our William resembles you. Even his expressions are similar. Some days this brings me comfort, some days tears, but I know I am blessed to be given charge of this little soul. I tell him tales of you daily and – though he shan't remember them from one minute to the next – I shall continue to tell him for speaking of you allows me never to forget. Not that I was in any danger of ever forgetting an instant in your company, dear one, but it helps to tell tales out loud. Perhaps others may say I am living in the past, but I say I am living in the future – in the time we shall be reunited and our little family complete. How I long for that day, Will. Time cannot pass soon enough._

_Yours always – Elizabeth_

_-----_

_Dearest Will,_

_I have succeeded in gaining permission to hire a drawing tutor for Amelie! Now the task at hand is to pick a suitable candidate. Perhaps I shall advertise in the gazette and see what comes of it. I want to hire on someone who is exceptionally good since Amelie deserves to learn from the best. How marvelous it is to have a little project to attend to._

_Our William is well (as always). He smiled – a real smile – when I spoke of you today. Celeste claims his other smiles were merely caused by a "bilious belly" but I do not see how she would know considering she's never had a baby. I suppose having a younger sister makes her feel superior. I, for one, have always felt privileged to be an only child though you and others may say it only caused Papa to spoil me more. I shall try not to spoil William though it is very hard to keep firm to that notion when gazing at his angelic face. When he is through with his rest, I shall take him down to the beach and we to deliver this letter bottle to the waiting sea (and you). I shall count the days till the bottle is returned to me filled with your replies._

_Know you are loved, my Will, above all else by _

_Your ever faithful wife -Elizabeth_


End file.
